


Between Northern Winds and Summer Skies

by blueangel



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 07:51:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueangel/pseuds/blueangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s uncomfortable, but she doesn’t dare complain to the Dornishwoman, not when she sees the Red Keep slowly getting farther and farther away from the crack in the wooden trunk. </p><p>The sequel to Summer Silk and Sand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Northern Winds and Summer Skies

Sansa tries to be perfect in every possible way- perfect lady. She has always been complimented on her beauty, on her stitching; on her manners- she takes great pride in this. Her mother looks on with pride and her father with love. Sansa wants a prince and a castle, she wants to bear children and please her husband- she tries to think and behave as every lady is meant to behave.

    Then there is her sister; her wild sister who preferred horse riding to songs, who preferred a sword to a needle- her _wilding_ sister, or so the people of Winterfell call her.  Arya, who Sansa thinks her father loves more-prefers. It’s not fair that their father looks on with pride and love as her sister clashes swords with Rodrick and has archery contests with Theon. It’s not what ladies are supposed to do. Still their mother will admonish her and father will berate her, but Arya will still have a smile on her face, and the next day will run around with Jon and climb with Bran as nothing has happened.

Sansa hates her for it.

\-----------------------------------

She and Robb share a lemon cake between them- licking the icing off their fingers when a muffled shouting catches their attention.

‘’ Absolutely not Ned!’’  Her mother’s voice comes from the other side of the door, and she tries to pull Robb back as he puts his ear to the door.

‘’ It’s not polite-‘’ she whispers, but Robb waves her over and curiosity gets the best of her. She presses her ear to the door and furrows her brows as she hears her parents argue. They never argue.

‘’ To send her so far south- do you know what the Martells would do to her!’’ Her mother’s voice is harsh and cold. She shares a look with her brother and they seem to agree- they have never heard mother speak to father in this way.

‘’ This is the best thing for her.’’ Her father’s voice is thankfully the same- even and calm, trying to reassure their mother.

‘’ By sending her to be a hostage.’’ Her mother’s voice rises and Sansa wonders if it is better that they leave.

‘’ She’ll be no such thing. Arya will be a lady of Starfall.’’ Robb grabs her wrist and Sansa follows him. They walk for a long while, weaving their way through the castle until they reach the practice yard.

‘’Where is Arya?’’ Robb asks. Theon and Jon exchange a look before they tell her brother that her sister is riding in the Wolfswood with Bran.

Theon chuckles, ‘’ She won’t like it.’’ Jon hits him upside the head and soon Sansa walks back to her solar, wanting to get away from them. She wonders why Arya wouldn’t like such a match. It was south. Sunny and warm where ladies wore silks and jewels, Sansa had heard the whispers about Dorne, but surely it was all idle gossip.

Later a door will slam and her sister will walk briskly away before rushing out of the stables- riding out into the wolfswood, not returning until dinner.

\----------------------------

Arya leaves and Sansa is left with Jeyne. It is perfect. Sometimes they receive letters from Starfall, and it mother that reads them first, then father, and then Robb reads them aloud, but soon Sansa is bored. Her sister does not talk of her betrothed, not really. There are no declarations of love or the start of the friendship. Did her sister not like her betrothed?

\------------------------------

Joffrey is her prince- will one day be her king, and it could not get any more perfect.

\-----------------------------

She watches her father die, and then she watches as Lady’s throat is slit. There is so much _red-_ like the crimson color the queen wears, like Joffrey wears. It makes her sick and soon she succumbs to a blissful darkness.

She is sure when she wakes in one of the seven hells, for surely no person can suffer this much. Yet she soon realizes that this is her reality. She would weep if not for the fear that Joffrey would not command the guards to beat her.

\--------------------------

The first time she hears of her sister it is from Oberyn Martell.

The Dornishman sits on her left and her husband on her right. Sansa concentrates on her cup of wine and tries to make herself as small as possible as the people laugh around her and the music plays loud and clear across the hall.

‘’ Lady Sansa.’’ Oberyn speaks to her and Sansa is startled- but only for a moment. She is quick to put on her mask again and look up at the Dornishman.

She tries to smile at him, ‘’ Lord Oberyn.’’ He smiles something wicked and Sansa tenses.

‘’ No need to be so formal, I am after all a dear friend to you sister.’’ Sansa keeps her mask on, but inside she is curious more than anything.

‘’ Are you?’’ Sansa tries to keep her voice light but it catches, ‘’ How is my sister?’’

‘’ With child.’’ Suddenly Sansa feels as if she is being bathed in a cool river, like her mother used to talk about, and she feels as if her lungs have frozen over. She tries not to imagine what her sister must have gone through. Sansa can practically hear her sister crying out for help as her betrothed forced himself on her; her sister screaming and crying. She meets the Dornishman’s eyes again. The black orbs are filled with concern and Sansa shivers. She nearly turns to Tyrion to ask him if she can retire early when a scream is heard and a cup falls to the ground.

\-----------------------------------

 It’s uncomfortable, but she doesn’t dare complain to the Dornishwoman, not when she sees the Red Keep slowly getting farther and farther away from the crack in the wooden trunk.

\----------------------------------

She collapses in her sister’s arms and the words that she has held for so very long finally spill out. Sansa sobs and Arya holds her as mother used to hold her- gentle arms cradling her and a soothing hand running down her hair. She can almost convince herself that it is their mother, but then she sees the curtain of dark hair from the corner of her eye.

It makes her cry harder

\----------------------------

Most days Sansa stays with Allyria, or playing with her son Arthur. It is a peaceful life- a happy one. She envies her sister more than she would ever admit.

She had imagined Edric Dayne as many things, but the man she meets is none of the cruel things she thought he would be. He talks to her gently, as if he does not want her to break. Sansa speaks to him politely, but curls into herself whenever her arm merely brushes his. Her sister’s lover is kind to her and kind to her sister- no that’s not the right word, he was _loving_ to her. He looked at Arya like father looked at their mother. 

Sansa quietly asks Allyria one day if they are always like this: happy, comfortable-no rage, no fighting.

Allyria had smiled sadly and for a moment the Dornishwoman had gone into herself, ‘’ Always.’’

\-----------------------------

Sometimes Sansa wants to rage at her sister. Arya is happy. It is like she has forgotten that their family has been ripped apart and turned into ashes.

\-----------------------------

Even though the northern winds blow cool air south, everything still seems in the grasp of summer.

 _‘Eventually winter will come’._ She thinks. Because that’s what her father always said and the one thing she is sure of is that her father was never a liar.

\---------------------------

Time passes and soon she holds a child in her arms, a girl, wrapped in lavender silk while her sister bleeds on the bed. The midwife rushes her out of the room and she is left holding her niece in her arms. Sansa has not prayed in a very long time, but she prays now. The gods have already taken everything else from her but she will not let them take her sister.

_Not now._

_\---------------------------------_

When Aegon Targaeryn comes it seems that Starfall falls still. Everyone walks cautiously and is polite, afraid that this new prince would follow in his grandfather’s footsteps. 

Sansa observes her sister and Edric talking in furious whispers when no one is looking, she can tell her sister wants to yell- to rage, but perhaps Arya finally understands what is at stake. Sansa surely does. That is why she smiles at the prince; it’s why she lets him make conversation with her when she would rather curl into herself. It’s a game she knows well- it’s a mask she knows how to wear. Oh, he is no Joffrey, but that doesn’t mean she trusts him. He is ready to become a conqueror and she knows well enough that he would cut down anyone who got in his way. It is what Aegon the conqueror did- what Robert Baratheon did.

_It is what she wishes Robb did._

So why should he be any different?

\--------------------------------------

_Arya is gone_

Arya is gone. No matter how many times she tries to say it in her mind she cannot quite believe it. Her sister was here a few days ago and now she is gone to Dragonstone.

Where the Mother of Dragons has made her claim.

Briefly Jon Connigton talks about arresting her for her sister’s crimes.

 _‘’Traitor,’’_ he says and it echoes so much of the queen that she has to suppress a shutter.

Aegon stops it. ‘’ I am king here and I shall judge who is the traitor.’’ He looks at her with such affection that she has to look away and grab at Nymeria. The wolf wines and paces before going down the halls, Sansa guesses to the nursery.

It is a letter from Doran that cools the rising tension though. Sansa reads it only briefly, but it is enough to make her stomach churn and twist.

Edric looks both parts angry and devastated. He crumples the letter and nearly unsheathes Dawn as Jon Connigton says something unsavory about Arya, but it is little Arthur grabbing his hand that stops him. Edric seems to deflate and then pats the boy on the shoulder before exiting the room.

Allyria sends the Hand of the King a sharp look while Sansa tries not to look at anyone in the room.

Her sister has made a mess of things.

\-------------------------

They do not hear anything for months. Sansa tries to keep herself occupied by watching Astria, the little girl she had once held in a lavender blanket- the girl who asks for her mother every day. 

Then comes the letter of Danearys Targaeryn’s death, then Stannis’s letter of allegiance, then Arya’s resignation- all of them one after the other.  After each of them Aegon’s shoulders seem to hunch from some building weight.

‘’ Are you alright my Prince?’’ She asks one night. His jaw clenches before relaxing.

‘’ Do you think that I shall be a good king?’’

‘’ Of course,’’ is Sansa’s automatic reply. Aegon closes his eyes briefly and Sansa wonders when he has last had a decent night’s sleep.

Aegon’s voice is rough when he tells her, ‘’ Tell me what you really think.’’ He looks at her and she bites her lip feeling the heat rush in her cheeks at his scrutiny.

‘’ I do not know.’’ She answers quietly; feeling the words hang in the air between them. He smiles then, a rare thing indeed these days.

‘’ Thank you for that truth.’’ He brushes a kiss on her hand and bids her goodnight while Sansa wonders if she has made a mistake.

\----------------------------------------

Arya is dead.

Sansa can’t help but think it’s not true, but it is. It means she is the last one.

_She is the last Stark._

Edric refuses to attend the funeral and he takes Astria with them- the both of them walking along the beach sharing in their grief.

Sansa and Allyria stand arm in arm as they watch the stark cloak, Arya’s wedding cloak, burn on a pyre. She watches as the sun sets and the smoke rises to the stars. Sansa can’t help but think that her sister ought to have been buried in the crypts beneath Winterfell. Because no matter how many years Arya had stayed here her sister was always a Stark, never a Dayne.

Sansa meets Aegon’s eyes across the flames- he gives her a nod in acknowledgment as the last true remnant of her sister burns.

\------------------------------

The banners are called and she holds Astria’s hand as they both watch her father ride away. Sansa feels the weight of the coin in her pocket that Edric had given her for safe passage to the free cities just in case.

\--------------------------------

When she sees her sister again Sansa is torn between happiness and shock- happiness that her sister is alive and shock that this woman is her sister. When Sansa hugs her it is the shorn hair that brushes her hands and skinny frame that is wrapped around her that makes her question if this is truly her sister. But the grey eyes that look at her tell her all that Sansa needs to know.

Her sister is alive.  

\--------------------------------

_To the Lady Sansa,_

It reads.

_I know that Kingslanding does not hold any happiness for you but I hope that you shall visit me one day when it suits you; for you told me the truth once and I hope you do so again in the future._

_Aegon Targaeryn I Prince of Dragonstone_

Sansa ignores the knots in her stomach and rips the letter in two, sending it into the fire.

\---------------------------------

She travels back and forth- Kingslanding to Winterfell. From court to home until it all swirls together in a bliss of snow and ice.

In Winterfell she is content to watch as her home is rebuilt- walking with Val to the Godswood and beyond as they gather supplies for the seemingly never ending winter.

In Kingslanding she does much the same- walking with Aegon as they explore the gardens together.

It’s strange sometimes to think she has started to consider him a friend.  That in all their conversations she stitches him together in her mind- the way he walked- the way he smiled and talked with her. Sometimes there were snags like his temper but those were easily soothed by her.

The whispers of the court were forgotten to her and she was content.

‘’ Sansa.’’ She looks up to see Aegon regard her warily.

‘’Yes.’’

‘’I know….’’ His brows furrowed and he seemed to struggle with his next words, ‘’ I know it would be selfish of me to ask you, but would you _stay-_ stay here and be my wife.’’ Sansa blinks and he must see the look on her face because he rushes on, ‘’ I know you hold no great love for me, but the council has asked me to pick a wife, and I would rather it would it be you-I would rather have a friend in my queen than to wake up to a stranger every day.’’ He breaks off from her gaze as heat rushes into his cheeks,

  Sansa hesitates only for a moment before touching his cheek gently. Perhaps this was not the great love she dreamed of as a child, but what was it her mother once to Arya when she had been sent to Starfall, ‘’ _your father didn’t love me when we married. He hardly knew me or I him. Love didn’t just happen to us. We built it slowly over the years, stone by stone, for you, for your brothers and sister, for all of us. It’s not as exciting as secret passion in the woods, but it is stronger._ _It lasts longer.’’_ So that is what Sansa would do- build a marriage and family between them- one that would be as strong as the walls of Winterfell.

   Sansa took his hand in hers and smiled, ‘’ It is not so selfish.’’ She answered quietly. He met her eyes again, and to answer his hopeful gaze she nodded.

 

**Author's Note:**

> that one quote that Catelyn says is taken from the show but I did tweak it to say 'sister' instead of saying 'sisters'


End file.
